Bad in Bed
by scubysnak
Summary: Over breakfast, Sara describes her worst sexual experience to Sofia. Femslash


**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em…**

**A/N: **I mentioned Sara thinking that Cath was rotten in bed and too high maintenance in "The Great Butt Dilemma" and absolutely had to write a story about it. I mean, come on, who thinks of Cath as being crappy in bed.

A plate of half-finished pancakes and a nearly empty bottle of syrup were all that was left of the breakfast she had agreed to share with me.

"So?"

I watched intently as she ran her finger around the rim of her steaming cup of coffee--the delicate digit a stark contrast to the dark liquid swirling beneath it.

I lifted my eyes to hers and smiled broadly. "You've waited long enough, I suppose. So, you obviously came to the conclusion that I dated or at least slept with Catherine and stopped. About a year ago, she started asking me to go out. At first, I thought it was just a casual sorta thing. You know-- just two gals that work together grabbing breakfast. I said no for about the first dozen times she asked. I just wasn't up for her company right after work. I wasn't sure what she was playing at, ya know?"

The blonde across from me nodded knowingly.

"Anyway, I caught a really rough case--child abuse. It hit a little too close to home for me. I managed to close the case, but it took its toll on me. Catherine," I chuckled, "she's persistent if nothing else. She insisted that morning that we go out for breakfast. I finally agreed. I'm not sure if it was that she had finally worn me down or because I was so desperate not to be alone with…" my voice trailed off as I looked out the window, unsure that I should share so much with Sofia so soon.

When I felt her fingers pass over mine, I was brought back to the present. I picked up my still full cup of coffee and took a big gulp before continuing.

"At breakfast that morning, she was almost giddy. She laughed and made it a point to reach out and touch me often. As we finished breakfast, she explained that she had been trying for months to get me to go out with her. She apologized for all of the nasty things she had said those first few years and asked if we could go out again. To say that I was a bit taken aback would be an understatement. I didn't know how to take this new Catherine—this Catherine that was friendly and flirty. She'd always been on my radar. I'd always thought she was physically attractive, but her personality had always left so much more to desire."

"I'm guessing you said yes then?" she asked as she leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as I had her full attention.

"I did," I rolled my eyes as I thought back to that pivotal decision. "We both had that weekend off. We did the traditional date—dinner and a movie. At dinner, she played footsie with me. I missed most of the movie because she insisted on making out. And that night, she tried her damnedest to get me to come in for a cup of coffee. I'm not a prude, ya know, but I wasn't sure what Cath's motives were. Something about her asking me out didn't quite sit right and I wasn't sure how I felt about sleeping with her."

Sofia leaned back in her seat, cradling her coffee between her hands and smiled smugly, "Damn, does this mean you don't put out on the first date at all?"

I nearly choked on the coffee I was drinking. Not to be outdone by her flirting, I moved my leg closer to hers and ran it up the inside her calf, stopping just above her knee before saying, "I do make exceptions for _certain_ people."

"Touche', Sidle. Touche'."

"Now, where was I? Oh yes, she wasn't happy with the way the first date ended. And honestly, I wasn't sure I even wanted a second date. But I accepted. And this time, she insisted on cooking for me. I thought that the one saving grace of the evening would be that Lindsey was there and that there was no way she'd come on to me so blatantly in front her. Unfortunately, just as I pulled in that evening, her sister was pulling out—with Lindsey in the car."

Sofia chuckled, "Oh, you poor dear. You were forced to spend an evening with Catherine without Lindsey. I have nothing but sympathy for you."

"Are you going to let me finish? Okay, so most of the dinner revolved around her asking a ton of questions. Did I like what she was wearing? Didn't her hair look nice? Wasn't she such a good cook? Didn't she look attractive? Didn't she have a nice body for a woman her age? Would I ever guess that she had a daughter given how good she looked? I swear, the woman doesn't fish for a compliment, she trolls for one. I couldn't stand the fact that she didn't give me an opportunity to pay her a genuine compliment, she just kept asking and asking things to get compliments—and I thought I was insecure! Ha! I drank a few more glasses of wine than were absolutely necessary just to make it through the evening's dinner. That was my first mistake of the night."

Sofia couldn't help interrupting me, "Oh please tell me you're not going to say that the only reason you slept with her was because you were drunk."

"I wasn't drunk. My ability to make sound decisions was slightly impaired," I paused and thought for a moment about what I had just said as I watched the smile spread across her face. "Okay, maybe I was a little drunk. One thing led to another and before I knew it, we were in her bedroom. I don't know if you've noticed, but I have a somewhat dominant personality—and not just in the lab, but in the bedroom as well. I got our activities started. And if I must say so myself, I was rather good. She screamed my name so loud at one point that I had to put my hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. She sounded like a porn star—a really, really bad porn star. I was certain the cops would be called because a neighbor would think she was being attacked. If only I'd have been lucky enough to have you or Brass show up. I'd have gladly gone to jail for the night rather than suffer what she promised was going to be the best sex I'd ever have."

"Oh this is getting good."

"Good? I don't think so. Her kisses were sloppy and wet. It was like being licked in the face by a dog after he just took a drink of water. Her hands were all over the place. Someone obviously told her at some point that biting was pleasurable—and it can be—but she bit me all over the place, raked her nails over me in places that are not the least be erogenous, and made the poorest attempts at dirty talk I've ever had to bear witness to since I've started having sex."

Sofia was blushing and fidgeting in her seat as my story was becoming more graphic—it was actually really cute to see her response.

"You know how you build something up in your mind and you just know it's going to be great? I did that with Catherine. For years, I'd worked by her side and I'd seen how she went through men. I knew she had been a stripper before becoming a CSI. I'd seen the way she walked—the way she commanded respect and garnered attention. So on some level, I had her pegged as this intense, sexual goddess. I have never been more wrong in my life. I expected her body to be able to bend and move in ways that were completely inhuman. Instead of bending and moving, she was just inflexible and stiff. I swear, it was like being fucked by a dead fish. And she had about as much emotion as one, too. After about twenty minutes, I finally pushed her off of me. Normally, if I'm turned on and the person I'm with has an inkling as to what they're doing, I can cum like that," I snapped my fingers to emphasize my point, which only made Sofia blush more.

"But Cath's movements were erratic and jagged. And I swear, she stabbed me with her finger nail in the most unpleasant of places. She was clueless. She cuddled up to me and started those sloppy wet kisses along my neck and slobbered in my ear before asking if it was as good for me as it was for her. All I could say was 'It was something, that's for sure.' I didn't spend the night. I grabbed my clothes and made the drive home. I figured a DUI was a price I was willing to pay not to be subjected to her sexual advances again that night."

Sofia looked like she was ready to explode in a fit of laughter and was doing her best to hold it in.

"Go ahead, laugh about it. God knows I have. Anyway, the next day at work, you'd have thought she was King Kong on cocaine the way she was strutting around. She kept flashing that thousand watt smile at me and all I could do was try to keep the flashbacks from the previous night at bay. Instead, I thought of dead bodies and fetal pigs. I made it through the entire shift without having to speak to her—and the next shift…and the next one. Three days after the worst sex I've ever had, she cornered me in the locker room. Actually, snuck up on me is more like it. I was in the shower after working a stinking decomp case—a decomp in a dumpster—when she came in. And I mean came in the shower with me. One minute my eyes are closed and I'm scrubbing my scalp furiously to get the stench out and the next I'm screaming because she's squeezed in there with me and is tweaking my nipples and asking if I can deal with a repeat performance from the other night right there in the shower. If I had my gun in there with me, I might have shot her. Seriously, I'm not joking. I might have shot her."

"Oh this is way better than any bad sex story I could ever dream up!"

"I managed to convince her to let me finish showering alone and once I was done and dressed, I explained to her that we needed to talk. You know, anytime someone has told me that we need to talk, I immediately feel like ice has settled in the pit of my stomach. Not her. No, she got all excited again. I have no idea what she was expecting our talk to be about, but I'm pretty damn sure she didn't expect me to tell her that she was too high-maintenance. When she refuted that and kept promising that she'd change if I gave her another chance, I finally blurted out, 'You're horrible in bed.' At that very moment, Nick, Greg and Rick had decided to come into the locker room. So, you see, not only had I had told the second sexiest woman around the lab that she was horrible in bed, I also told most of her co-workers. I expected her to slap me or say something cruel. Instead, all she did was burst into tears and run from the locker room. A few weeks later, she started asking if I would give her another chance—that she knew she could do better in bed—that she must have been really nervous since it was our first time together. I just kept telling her no and tried to ignore the comments I overheard the guys making."

"You probably not only fueled some of the fantasies that they had about the two of you together, but you also killed the fantasies they had about her being so amazing in bed. You know that, right? Man, I never would have imagined that Catherine could be bad in bed. Wait," she paused and looked at me with a question, "you said she was the second sexiest woman in the lab. Who's the sexiest?"

I stood up and dug into my pocket for some cash before tossing it onto the table and holding out my hand for hers. As she took it and I pulled her to her feet, I answered, "You."

We walked to the parking lot with me trailing just behind her, watching the extra sway she put in her swagger after she looked over her shoulder to make sure I was paying attention.

Hoping to prove that chivalry wasn't dead, I reached for her car door to open it, but soon found myself spun around and pinned to the car. Her body was pressed firmly against mine and her breath was tickling my ear. She flicked her tongue against my earlobe which caused my hands to pull her flush against my body.

She bit down on it none too gently eliciting a moan before she said, "If I promise to be everything she wasn't and more, will you come home with me? I'm not the great Catherine Willows, but I can assure you that when I'm done fucking you, you'll be feeling it for days. And I know that's what you want. You want someone who can squash that dominant side—someone who will leave you with no doubt that you've just been fucked and fucked well. Catherine couldn't do it, but I can. Whatcha say, Sara? Can I take you home? Can I fuck you?"

"I swear, if you're bad in bed…" I started but she cut me off.

"I'm not Catherine."

We both laughed as we climbed into my car and headed toward her apartment.

Hours later, as I lie there limp and nearly boneless, with oxygen in short supply, I turned as far my restraints would allow and beheld the sight that was Sofia Curtis. I struggled to put words together as I asked her, "Where….where did …..did you learn….learn how to do that?"

She slid three fingers back easily inside me and said, "You'd never believe me if I told you."


End file.
